Midnight
by RonsPigwidgeon
Summary: Midnight, You come and pick me up, no headlights, Long drive, Could end in burning flames or paradise, Fade into view, oh, it's been a while since I have even heard from you.


**Title: **Midnight

**Author: **rons_pigwidgeon

**Fandom/Genre: **Romance

**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel

**Rating: **M

**Word Count: **707

**Warnings: **Non-explicit gay sex

**Summary: **Midnight,

You come and pick me up, no headlights,  
Long drive,  
Could end in burning flames or paradise,  
Fade into view, oh, it's been a while since I have even heard from you.

**Notes: **Inspired by 'Style' by Taylor Swift.

* * *

Midnight

The rumble of the Impala is as familiar to him as the doorbell when it rings. It's late, but Castiel doesn't have to wonder whether or not he'll answer the door. He pulls his coat on, grabs his scarf and his keys, and then there's Dean, leaning against the door frame in his warn leather jacket and a cocky grin. He murmurs a 'hey' and pulls Cas closer by his shirt front, lips brushing Cas' just enough to burn.

They head down to the car, Cas winding his scarf around his neck with one hand, the other firmly ensconced in Dean's. Sliding onto the supple leather of the passenger seat is like coming home. Dean's hand travels over Cas' thigh as the engine roars to life.

It's been six months, but it feels like a day. Castiel plays with Dean's fingers, tracing their rough calluses, watching Dean from under his eyelashes. "Sam said you were in Virginia," he says, quiet.

"Been alotta places."

His eyes flick from the road to pin Cas for a second, making his heart speed up and his skin heat. When he looks back at the road, so does Cas, watching the streetlights fade away as they leave the city.

"Heard you published a book."

"Yeah, last month."

"It was good."

"You read it?" Castiel turns to him in surprise.

"I liked that Clarke dude."

Castiel snorts, rolling his eyes. He would. Cas hadn't been subtle about modeling the character after Dean.

"Wasn't enough sex, though."

"There wasn't any sex, Dean."

"I know." The comment is accompanied by a squeeze of his thigh, little finger drifting a little too close to his zipper to be an accident.

Castiel licks his lips, turns back to the window. "Maybe next time."

By the time they get to the motel, it's past one. He doesn't bother turning the lights on, but Castiel doesn't mind. There's enough of it coming through the blinds. He watches the jacket slide from broad shoulders. "I heard you were with a girl in Virginia. I heard it got serious."

"It was, but I couldn't get you outta my head," Dean says as he steps over, crowds in closer.

Cas looks up at him with a half-cocked smile, understanding. "Me, too." He takes hold of Dean's t-shirt as they lean in, lips seeking. It's slow, cautious. They have to re-learn each other all over again, but it's good. So good.

His scarf is off, then his coat, his shirt. He's stepping out of his jeans in another minute, pressing close, skin hot against Dean's. Dean's hands are strong when they grab onto his hips, picking him up in one fell swoop and walking him to the bed. The spread is scratchy, then gone, and then there's Dean, pressing between his legs, skin so smooth it makes Cas shiver.

His lips never leave Cas' unless it's to suck bruises into his throat, his chest. Teeth gently nibble at his nipple, making him arch, squirm. It's been awhile, but the fingers inside him are familiar and so, so perfect.

When Dean's lips return to his, it's with a hitched breath and a sharp snap of hips. Their fingers twine, pushed up past Castiel's head. His legs wrap around Dean's hips, holding on tight as they rock together. He hasn't felt this good, this whole in a long time. Not since the last time.

Dawn is just peeking through the curtains when Dean noses into his hair, arms wound around his chest, fingers tracing slow patterns into his skin. "Got work?"

"Yeah, 9:30," Castiel whispers, afraid to break their cocoon with his voice.

"We got time." The third time is lazy, but just as toe-curling good, laying on their sides, Dean's hand pushing Cas' thigh up and out of the way. Each thrust is like a wave, crashing over Castiel, threatening to sweep him under.

Later, Dean buttons his shirt for him, eyes dancing in that smug way of his. They kiss on his front porch for a long time, clinging to each other like they might never let go. When he leaves, Castiel knows better than to ask when he'll be back. It doesn't matter. He will be.


End file.
